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The Only Truth (Garen/Katarina)

The Only TruthSummary: Garen Crownguard had never questioned the absolute truth that was the Demacian way of life. It wasn't until he clashed blades with Katarina DuCouteau, the reknowned Noxian assassin, that Garen realized that what was true was a great deal more complicated than it first appeared. Set against a backdrop of deceit, political games, and a continent sliding into chaos. Garen/Katarina

Hello! Below is my first published fanfiction ever! I recently became addicted to League of Legends and fell in love with the lore behind the game. Garen was my first champion and he holds a special place in my heart and I was thrilled at the hints of romance in his story! After a lot of research I came up with this. I tried to follow the lore including the journal of justice entries as closely as possibly but with my own twists. If you like mystery, political intrigue, and romance, then I hope you continue reading! I hope it's enjoyable and I would greatly appreciate feeback, positive and negative (*I'm really nervous*)

The Only Truth

***

Chapter One: Alcohol Never Lies

The first time Garen Crownguard had encountered her felt simultaneously like a few seconds and an eternity.

While his sword was locked in a power struggle against a Noxian soldier, he happened to spot her across the field in the split second his eyes were away from his own battle. She danced quickly and gracefully around a Demacian solider who was failing desperately to match her pace, becoming slower and slower as she added deep but non-fatal wounds for each of his missed strikes. Garen spared her a second more of his attention before it returned to the enemy soldier in front him, who he quickly overpowered, throwing him off-balance long enough to rend a fatal blow to his side. The Demacian forces were slowly pushing forward and when Garen spared another quick glance in her direction, he found her looking back as she whirled around another Demacian solider, her blades almost too quick to see. A spark of recognition crossed her face and she deftly threw a dagger into the soldier's eye and, within seconds, manuevered through the field to Garen's position.

"So," she grinned, "you're Garen Crownguard." She held a long interestingly shaped dagger in each of her slender hands, idly twirling one at her side while the other rested confidently on her curved hip. He didn't want to think how many more the assassin possessed hidden on her person.

However, he responded with a curt nod of affirmation and replied, "And you are Katarina DuCouteau, daughter of General DuCouteau of Noxus." She gave a harsh laugh in reply before assuming a ready stance. "Spare me the formalities! Let me tell you how this is going to go, Garen. I am going to kill you, take this area for Noxus, and then I'm gonna hang your big shiny sword above my fireplace! I hope you're ready to fail your beloved Demacia." Another coy smile graced her lips, a dimple forming in her right cheek. He almost laughed at the audacity of her statement. Almost.

Instead, he readied his sword, indicating her forward with a wave of his hand and a confident tilt of his head.

The next few minutes (hours? He couldn't tell) were a blur for Garen. She was the swiftest opponent he had ever faced and it was all he could do to block her swirling daggers and thrown knives. Their exchange was like an expertly choreographed dance: advances, withdrawals, spins and dips. He wasn't sure how long they were locked but the sun was beginning to fall on the battlefield; he was awed at her tenacity. Inwardly he found that he had no desire for their battle to end. However, like the soldier he had seen her fight before, the many wounds he sustained were hardly fatal but each one added to his fatigue. Likewise, although he had only landed a few blows on Katarina, they were deep and he could see they were taking their toll. They separated, breathing heavily, eyes scanning each other's faces. Garen briefly wondered what he looked like, noting the dark circles under her vivid green eyes. Where did that scar come from? He was suddenly feeling very dizzy and the din from the fighting surrounding them had dulled. Katarina lurched forward intending to launch into another attack, but stumbled slightly, clutching a wound on her left side. She cursed inwardly while forcing herself to stand and give the cheekiest smile she could muster.

"You're looking a little pale, Garen, how about I let you off the hook this time?" He scoffed at the question, but they both knew they were at their limits. The fading light of day glinted off her long red hair as she turned sharply, throwing one last knife in the commander's direction.

His knees shook and he slowly looked down at the blood trickling into the dirt and thought dimly that he should really see a medic. A cry from the Demacian troops snapped him from his reverie and he blinked to see the Noxians retreating. For now, the battle had ended.

The remainder of the evening had been spent retrieving fallen comrades, resetting their line forward, and determining the next move for Demacia. News of Garen's intense battle with the Sinister Blade of Noxus had been spread quickly by the witnesses, and he received commendations all evening for "sending the Noxian ***** packing!", which he replied to with a firm nod or a simple statment of "for Demacia". He was certainly a man of few words.

With his duties completed the Demacian commander gratefully retreated to the solitude of his bunk. As he lay staring at the canvas tent roof above he reflected on the battle with Katarina. Her skill was undeniable; it had taken several of the finest potions Demacian medical mages had to offer before each of the wounds were closed. Every inch of skin not protected by armor had been expertly exploited, including the smallest gaps between the pieces of armor.

He gingerly ran a finger from the top of his left brow down his cheek, wondering who could be fast enough to mar her in such a way.

As he closed his eyes and willed his mind to stop, he noted, without humor, that his knees were still weak.

***

The next time Garen encountered her, it caught him completely off guard. Almost a month had passed since clashing with Katarina on the battlefield and, while he admittedly was eager to face her in combat again and sought her out, he found that he thought of her less and less with each skirmish that he fought in which she made no appearance. By the time he visited the Hasty Hammer he had nearly stopped thinking about her entirely.

The Hasty Hammer tavern in Kalamanda was frequented by the soldiers of the Dauntless Vanguard. Each week that passed in which they remained camped outside the tenuously neutral city ended with a regrouping at the tavern. Garen always declined to join his squad but the sense of boredom that had settled over him with increasing intensity since his one-on-one with the beautiful figurehead of Noxus was becoming unbearable. He sighed in instant regret as his subordinates delightedly plotted to intoxicate their commander, taking bets as to how much alcohol the huge man could consume before he couldn't stand.

However determined he had been to have a good time, his mood grew sour as he took a spot at the bar after being forced to wade through a sea of bodies. The noise was incessant and irritating. A soldier pushed a foaming mug at the surly commander and he joined them in a toast to Demacia.

By the bottom of his second mug the Vanguard had stopped harrassing their senior officer and he was left to brood over his third and fourth mug in relative peace. He practically scowled into the liquid. Why was his mood still so dark? Garen considered himself to be a reasonably content man but lately there was a change inside him for which he could not pinpoint the source.

The primary result of his mysterious change was the boredom. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt truly bored, yet here it was, hovering over his head like a dark cloud. It made him feel tired and chronically annoyed, a fact which the Vanguard had begun to notice. His hopes for a reprieve at the bar were sorely let down.

It was during his fifth mug that door to the tavern swung open and silence descended. Rolling his eyes, he turned and without warning the feeling in his knees rushed back accompanied by the untimely inhilation of his drink. His face flushed; he wouldn't let himself-

The silence was broken by his choking cough.

A subordinate quickly jumped to his aid, slapping him heartily on the back while the others laughed hysterically. Chatter resumed as the small band of Noxians drifted into the crowd, while Katarina sauntered directly to the bar, signaling to the bartender. To Garen's horror she took the empty seat to his left.

He stared miserably into his now empty mug. This was a nightmare! The Noxian representative, a well known assassin, was sitting next to him and he, the paragon of Damacian ethic, had nothing to say. On one hand, to start a fight here would essentially be the final blow to the neutrality of Kalamanda, but on the other the Measured Tread dictated the deliverance of justice to known evil and to make matters worse-

"Hey, you're gonna burn a hole through the bar if you stare any harder."

-she was talking to him.

His head jerked up and he opened his mouth to reply but to save his life he couldn't form any words. His traitorous knees trembled. He could see her lips curve upward, an arched eyebrow, her intense green eyes looking at him.

"I...I do not consort with Noxians." Finally, he thought, something Demacia could be proud of. He met her gaze with a straight face, although he felt unusually warm. Probably the drink.

Her smile turned to a delicate pout and she turned to her drink. "But, the paper said that I left you..." she paused briefly looking back to him with an expression of mock hurt, "breathless."

Silence.

Garen signaled the bartender for another drink and the red-head snickered at the deliberate refusal to answer.

"Now I am truly curious!" she exclaimed, leaning onto the counter with her torso turned to face the Demacian. "Come now, Garen Crownguard! Tell me what you really think!" A taunt, willing him to attack.

"And why is the Sinister Blade of Noxus so desperate to know what a Demacian thinks?" Deflection; he wasn't going to fall for her tricks.

"Aww," she cooed, "but why wouldn't I want to know what a handsome man like you has to say about me? Even the shining example of Demacian ethic can't be immune to a little...Noxian charm." She was practically purring. A light jab to his morals, right where it hurt.

He turned to face her fully, leaning in with an equal amount of intensity. "No Noxian could ever shake my loyalty to Demacia. You are to me the most worthy opponent I have yet to face and I am 'breathless' at the idea of running you through with my blade." He took a drink to steady himself. "But since we're talking about charm, how'd you get that charming scar across your eye?" Counteroffensive, unsuspected. Garen turned away, taking another deep drink from his mug. His heart hammered painfully in his chest and he noted with some pride that Katarina wore an expression of surprise for a brief moment before being replaced by her usual smirk. She turned, laughing something under her breath about how he wasn't as stupid as she thought.

Battle: Garen. Demacian moral upheld, desire to fight clear. It was after his small victory that he realized the tavern was growing unusually loud and he perked up immediately upon hearing the phrase "Demacian scum" followed by the sounds of a swift punch and a flipping table.

The commander rose from the bar carefully, noting with annoyance that everything was a little swimmy and berated himself for being so careless. Katarina turned curiously but upon seeing the brawl that was breaking out between her soldiers and the Demacians she too jumped up, taking one last swig of her drink, and quickly tried to control the nearest Noxian.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Garen's soldiers normally would have strightened into order at the commander's voice but alcohol was clouding everyone's judgement and they merely became more unruly. Cries of "Noxian *******s!" and "Why are you trying to stop us?!" mingled in the air with "Demacian dogs!" and "We'll ****ing kill all of you!" and Garen feared he was going to lose control of the situation.

Straightening to his full height he flung his arms out and in the loudest voice he could manage addressed the Vanguard: "Do you not remember that you are soldiers of the Demacian army?! Our orders are to maintain the neutrality of this city! Anyone who wants to challenge that will be court marshalled and sentenced by King Jarvan himself!" He glared expectantly at their quieted faces. "Any takers?!" A Noxian soldier quickly shouted, "King Jarvan can suck my ****!" but before any of the Demacian's could react, Katarina hurled a knife into the wooden support next to the offender's face.

"You think this is a ****ing game?! Don't think the Noxian High Command will show any mercy to some grunts who disobey orders!" She glowered fiercely, flipping another small knife eagerly in her right hand.

Garen was surprised at her ability to so quickly silence the crowd, although he also recognized that she had been quite effective at silencing him. Shaking his head he shouted once more to the Vanguard, "You're all to return to camp immediately! MOVE!" Sullenly the soldiers shuffled out of the tavern, Garen follwing behind them.

"Hey Crownguard," Katarina called suddenly. He turned sharply, nearly losing his footing, but answered as cooly as possible, "What is is DuCouteau?"
She paused for a moment, staring intently at his face with and unreadable look on her own. Finally, she smiled a smile which was becoming familiar to him and replied, "What you said earlier; you make me breathless too."

I will be back to read this soon. This story has my attention. My apologies that I cannot devote the proper amount of time it deserves for reading and feedback. Once the shadows of midterm exams leave me, I will most definitely return. In the meanwhile, I wish you the best of luck with your writing.

Aww snap! A beautiful Garen x Kat fanfic! Oh, the joys of seeing someone who shares the same passion as myself! Great job! I really liked the way you structured your sentences and the flow of the story was just great! I compared it to my own work (which should be somewhere within this forum...) and I found that yours was definitely much better, much more detailed, and much more accurate to the lore than mine. It's good to have a fellow author write about Garen and Kat. They're just a cute couple! Anyway, nice job!